


Have

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 05:05:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/683121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	Have

She was fifteen, 5’7”, with the sharpest eyes you’d ever seen and a cunning that made your heart ache.   
Everything about her screamed at you, indecipherable longing that tugged in your gut and made you feel sick. The way she talked, in a way slurred and yet so sure, the way her hips moved when she walked (like she was silently saying “I don’t have much but I know how to use it”), the way she smiled with this mischievous glint in her eyes like a devilish kitten. 

She was, daresay, intoxicating.

Her and Jane were the best of friends, and that always made you feel worse.  
‘She’s a teenage girl,’ you would tell yourself, mixing cake batter with your favorite apron on. ‘She’s here for Jane, not for you.’

But sometimes you doubted that. 

Sometimes, on sleepover night, Jane would go upstairs to take a shower.  She would stay with you, though, flask in hand (you routinely asked her not to drink in your house, she routinely snarked back a ‘c’mon Daddy Crocker, girl’s gotta get her sauce on’).  She would ask you about your life, ask what kind of things you used to do, how you ever lived before you were a dad as it seems that’s what you were made for. 

You try to remember. The fact that you actually HAVE to try to remember is another little pinprick of disgust with yourself at how much older than her you are. 

Tonight, it was the same. Jane was taking her routine 7:30 shower, and Roxy was sitting at the table, sloshing the alcohol in her flask adorned with little pink paw prints. 

“Why’d you never get married?” She looked at you with those eyes, so sharp and sweet and fringed with mascara-coated lashes. 

“I never happened to find someone I felt comfortable sharing my life and raising Jane with,” you answered smoothly, feeling like it was an acceptable answer.

“Why?”

Oh.  “I couldn’t tell you,” you started thoughtfully. “I suppose I’ve been searching for just the right person. I must feel very strongly for them before I will submit to such a large commitment.”

She seemed to accept that answer, taking a sip from her flask. The room grew quiet, and you focused on your baking, stirring the batter to a flawless smooth and creamy brown.   
A thin hand resting on the small of your back made you jump, and a tinkling laugh followed after from the young girl. 

“Jumpy, eh Daddy-o?” Roxy was leaning on the counter next to you, one elbow propped up and her other hand removing itself from your back. Your skin burned through your shirt where her palm had rested. 

“I-I was simply startled by the silence with which you managed to sneak up on me,” you explained, which was partially true. Just not the whole story.

“Sure thing,” she said in a teasing voice, her eyes locking on yours. She was seeing straight through you, and a flood of panic rushed through your veins like ice water, chilling you to your core.

She knew. 

“Miss Lalonde, perhaps you should go see if Jane is finished showering, yes?” You managed to level your voice, and her confidence wavered a little.

“You know she doesn’t get out until 8 sharp,” Roxy retorted, which was true.  Gosh darn it.   
You had nothing to say to that, so you hesitantly returned to baking, hands working deftly to set up the cupcake trays to perfection and pour in the chocolate mix.   
You had almost completely re-relaxed when you saw her shift, move in closer and felt her lean her head on your shoulder. You moved away, putting the cupcakes in the preheated oven, and she made an affronted little sound.

You couldn’t possibly entertain the idea of putting your hands on this teenaged girl. She seemed resigned to that now, offering something up about going to paint her nails and sauntering up the stairs.   
As soon as she was gone, you abandoned your cupcakes- something you very rarely do- and headed into your room, heat pulsing through you.

With your pants around your ankles, you took less than a minute before you found your release, thoughts filled with the delicate little curves and milky white thighs of a gorgeous blonde girl you could never have.


End file.
